Logistical Problems
by Ananke Adrasteia
Summary: Being a self-insert is not easy if you think the canon should stay intact.
1. Chapter 1

**Logistical Problems**

**Act I**

I don't really know what came upon me to stay late that night. I didn't really have to; all the work was done, and I was very much an early bird myself. Staying late meant headaches and general sleepiness and tiredness next day.

Nevertheless, stay late I did. A poster on a forum I had visited compared the _Game of Thrones_' Purple Wedding's jousting dwarves to the Ember Island Players, and that reminded me of _Avatar: The Last Airbender_, the most glorious children's cartoon that has ever been or would be (don't _ever_ mention _Korra_ to me). It was during watching _ATLA_; more specifically, somewhere around the last beats of _Sozin's Comet_ - that I felt asleep.

When I awakened, it was during a storm, at night, in a cold, cold sea.

"Man overboard!"

God-damn. The sea was cold, so cold; and I had never learnt to swim-

I lost consciousness, obviously. The last thing I remember was a figure, jumping into the turgid water.

* * *

"Nephew, you must remember-"

"Don't teach me, Uncle! I will save who I want!"

"All I wanted to say, nephew, is that while your heart's intent is pure and true, next time, please plan your charitable actions better. What would have happened to you if Lieutenant Jee had not been there to pull you out?"

"I don't care!"

Daa-mn it. Was I now reduced to making up dialogue? From a _cartoon_?

I was lying down. I raised my upper body, a little, just to look around-

"Easy there," I heard, in an unmistakable voice. A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and I felt myself propped up. I looked around-

Two Firebender soldiers, holding small flames on the palms of their hands, illuminating the stormy night. One Uncle Iroh. One (first-season, ponytailed, angry) Zuko.

I never dreamt; or, better said, had never remembered my dreams before. This was the best dream I had ever had, and I was intent on keeping onto it.

I spit out water, and lost my consciousness again.

* * *

When I came to, it was in a metal cabin, or a cargo hold- It was decorated in red, obviously, and in fire: small candles burnt in the corners of the room, laying long shadows on the walls. A single red scroll with a fiery motif hung on the wall. A single red carpet with golden embroidery lay on the floor.

I rose from the cot. I was not wearing the clothes I had gone to bed in; instead, I was dressed in a loose (and red) sleeping robe.

I took in my surroundings, and decided to keep to the dream for as long as I could. That had really never happened to me before.

My regular clothes, dry already, were lying next to the bed. I dressed up; folded the robe and made up the cot; approached the door outside, and opened it slightly-

The twin guards crossed their long pole weapons before me, with a clank. "Please inform the Dragon of the West and Prince Zuko that I am awake," I said, trying to sound light.

Then, I went back inside, and knelt, in meditation and waiting. Between the candles and the shadows, without a laptop, an iPad, or a cell phone in sight, it was oddly... peaceful.

-xxxx-

* * *

**Act II**

They entered the hold not soon after, before my legs got cramped; first, a susurrus at the edge of my hearing, and then, a grumpy muttering.

I stood up and bowed. _Fist, palm, bow_... _Fist vertically or horizontally? Right flat palm on left fist, or left flat palm on right fist? _Aang had much the same problem in _The Headband_, but I had not been enough of a fan to remember his solution. I finally opted for left flat palm on right fist, praying to the spirits of the world that I were right.

Apparently, the bow was deemed acceptable, because I heard no complaint nor comment. Instead, when the two were barely inside my holding cell, Zuko asked, in a harsh and angry voice, "Who are you?"

"Now, now, nephew," Iroh said, sitting on the floor, "Let the lovely young lady sit; she must be thirsty and hungry after all that sleep." He turned to me. "Please tell me, what is your favourite tea?"

_Careful now... _"Ginseng, General," I said, fulfilling the very, very polite and very, very direct order.

"Ginseng it is. A very good choice, it is my favourite," the old man replied. "We'll take ginseng," he said, nodding towards the door, which slid closed. Beside us, Zuko was sitting down, grumping.

I turned to the teen. "Prince Zuko, may I express my gratitude for saving my life? It was a very..." - _don't say honourable act -_ "...honourable act." _Fuck me. Well, it was._

Zuko was understandably disturbed. "Thank you," he said. Behind his facade, Iroh was watching us both carefully.

"To reply to your earlier inquiry, my name is –" _there are a thousand Lees_ – "Lin. And I am a no one."

The teen bristled. "No one? How can you say that you are a no one?"

"Forgive me, my Prince. I meant to say, no one important."

The tea entered, providing the necessary break; once it was poured out and distributed, and the ship's cook left, the world's nicest interrogation continued. "I was wondering, how did such a nice lady found herself here?" Iroh wondered.

That one was tough, and I decided that truth was the safest option. "Honestly, I don't know, General. I don't even know where _here_ is."

Zuko snorted. "As if you expected us to believe that. We're halfway between Whale Tail Island and the South Pole. Nothing should be here, except perhaps us and the Southern Raiders."

_Halfway between-?_ That meant that the series had not yet started. Or had only just started, depending on which way they were going.

I considered a reply, but, fortunately, Zuko already changed the topic. "How do you know who we are?"

The kid really did like playing the bad cop. "Forgive me, Prince Zuko," I said. "The scar. Even in the colonies-"

The grimace on the boy's face was indescribable; but he was gracefully intercepted by Iroh. "So, you are from the colonies, Lady Lin?"

I nodded, quickly hiding the lie behind the exquisite ginseng tea for good measure. "Yes."

"Is that how you got this lovely colouring?"

This time, my surprise was genuine. "Colouring?"

"Your hair."

_Oh shit_. Red hair. Unheard of. "It's a dye," I explained. "It will come off soon." _And once it does, I will simply look like a very pale Water Tribe. I really should have made that my cover story._

The old man smiled. "Oh. So many new wondrous things, they invent in the colonies. Though I must say, it does set off your eyes most wonderfully."

Did he _ever_ stop? In the corner of my eye, I could see Zuko making a furtive move, as if to shake off his uncle's blatant compliments. He must have forgotten Iroh's purpose. "Thank you, General Iroh," I replied.

He smiled widely. "No need to be so formal. Please call me Iroh."

Now that went too far. "I wouldn't dare, General. I mean, it is a great honour, and I mean no disrespect, but..."

"No, no, I insist," the old man said in his dangerous, mercurial fashion.

Desperate, I turned to the more cynical and realistic of the two. "Prince Zuko, I beg you. What will your soldiers think when they hear me, a nobody, call your esteemed uncle with such a familiar name? I would not want them to lose respect for him."

Zuko blinked. "She's right, uncle," he said, turning to the old man. "You really shouldn't insist."

With his support, I turned to the old man. "Please," I said. "General."

Iroh's eyes lit up, and I got the sudden feeling that either I or Zuko, or both of us, had been, after all, outmanoeuvred. "Well, fine," he said. "As long as you promise to drink tea with me ever so often, young lady- What was your name again? Pardon this old man's weak memory..." His voice trailed off.

"Lin," I replied, looking him straight in the eye.

He nodded. "Lin."

They left; and I realised that the question of _whether_ I should stayed on the ship had never come up.

* * *

A moment after Iroh and Zuko left, a young man entered the hold, carrying a bowl of rice and the chopsticks.

The rice was hot and seasoned; though obviously the exact blend of spices, and the meat, was unrecognizable to me. I washed down the meal with the remainder of the ginseng tea to avoid heartburn, and finally felt that I had to go to the toilet.

That presented a by-now-familiar lack-of-information logistics problem. Did they just do it over the board on the ship? And if so, how the fuck was I supposed to accomplish that?

This time, when I opened the door, there were no guards outside; only the narrow, dark passage behind. It felt somewhat wrong to abandon my chamber and abuse the graciousness of my hosts; I would not have done that, but for that the situation was pressing.

It took me turning the corner before I met someone who could answer my question. Far from an ideal choice, at that.

The middle-aged man interrupted his conversation with some sailors and looked up at me. "Ah," he said. "Lady Lin."

"Just Lin, please," I said. "I am just a commoner."

"You are a citizen of the Fire Nation, though, Lady Lin," he said. "Are you not?"

"The colonies." I moved to intercept the conversation. "With whom do I have the pleasure-?"

"Lieutenant Jee," he said. "Of the Fire Nation Royal Navy."

I bowed, relieved that I would not have to pretend that I did not recognise him any longer. _Right fist, left hand, I don't care._ "Lieutenant Jee. It is an honour."

To my surprise, he bowed back. "Likewise, Lady Lin."

"May I have a word with you?" I asked.

He nodded, and, wordlessly, we separated from the group of sailors and returned behind the corner. "To begin with," I started. "I apologise for having left my hold."

The Lieutenant had a mildly distressed look on his face. "Did the General not inform you-?"

I pretended to consider. "No, the Prince and he had not chosen to convey their decision to me."

"Ah, I understand," the Lieutenant replied. "According to General Iroh's orders, you have the run of the ship. I aimed to send a boy to guide you around the ship once you were finished eating, but it turns out I have underestimated your appetite."

_The run? Of a military vessel? Why?_ "The stew was marvellous," I replied aloud. "Please send my compliments to the cook, Lieutenant." _Eat more slowly._

The man smiled. "He will be much happier to hear it from you than me, I daresay."

"Then I will do it myself." Suddenly, my full bladder reminded me of my original purpose for seeking out a fount of information. "But for now, Lieutenant..."

_Eh, how the fuck to mention this to this guy...?_ I opted for the direct way. "I really need to go to a toilet. How...?"

The man frowned. "There should have been a... container provided in your room? And some water?"

I felt myself blushing. _Of course_. "Of course. Please excuse me, Lieutenant."

I nodded and turned around. "Do you know how to get back to your room?" the man's voice trailed behind me.

"Yes," I said.

"You are going the wrong way, Lady Lin. It's that way."

_Uhh_. I turned back and entered the other corridor in the T-crossing, nodding in passing as, embarrassed, I did not dare look him in the eye, "Lieutenant."

He bowed lightly, "Lady Lin."

I entered my room, fulfilled my urge, washed my hands, and considered.

-xxxx-

* * *

**Act III**

I woke up, at an indeterminate hour; all but one candle in the hold had burnt out, and the floor was almost bare again; someone had picked up the remains of the tea and the meal during my sleep. I waited for a moment, and then, after no one came, decided to explore a bit more.

I opened the door gingerly, and went into the narrow corridor behind again. If I had not been mistaken, the conversation I had interrupted – _yesterday_? – had taken place under a ladder that would take me somewhere upstairs, perhaps even to the deck.

This turned out to be a guess even more correct and luckier that I had anticipated; once I unscrewed the overhead hatch, light flooded over me, blinding me momentarily.

I climbed on top of the deck, and froze.

The sun was at dawn, flooding the deck of the small ship and the calm waters with a wave of red and rose; around me, the ship was awakening as the day shift replaced the night-

"_Even so I yearn day after day, longing to reach home, and see the hour of my return. And if some god should strike me on the wine-dark sea_-"

"I beg your pardon, Lady Lin?"

I jumped in surprise. "Oh. I did not realise you were there, Un- General Iroh. I was just... it was just a poem I once heard. I mean... this... this all... is magnificent. I don't think I have ever seen a sunrise at sea."

The old man looked around, and carefully nodded. "I agree. However much time I have spent on it, the sea never fails to amaze me with its beauty. Do you mind if we go on a little walk?"

I knew better to pretend I had a choice. "Of course, General Iroh."

"It occurs to me," Zuko's uncle said as we slowly started walking towards the prow, "That you may not have been entirely honest with Prince Zuko and me yesterday, Lady Lin."

Here it was. "Not... entirely honest, General?" I asked.

"There are very few who know the purpose of this ship –" _But I hadn't mentioned the purpose of this ship, had I? Or hadn't I?_ – "And fewer still who would recognise my nephew on sight. Especially among – pardon the indelicate word, but you chose it yourself - 'nobodies' – hailing from the colonies."

_That _was what was going to do me in? Damn it, it really hadn't been stated outright at this point of the cartoon, had it? The crew didn't know the circumstances, but not knowing _Zuko himself_? "Really?" I said.

"My nephew's banishment made for a great uproar in the capital, yes," the old man continued. "Two years ago, after it happened. But I really doubt it had made great waves outside the court. _Especially_ in the colonies."

_Wait a second_... "Are you accusing me of being a spy, General Iroh?" I asked.

"I don't know, Lady Lin," the former Crown Prince said sadly. "Are you?"

I looked him in the eye and shook my head. "No. I'm not."

"Forgive the old man," he replied. "But I will need a little more evidence than that."

_Uuuuh_. "Forgive me, General Iroh, but it is impossible to prove a negative."

To my surprise – my defence had been only a weak, intuitive counterstrike, after all – Iroh nodded. "True, Lady Lin. However, it is very much possible to confirm a positive. Which colony are you from?"

_Ooh, unfair_. _Even Aang wasn't asked _that. My mind raced; I had not remembered any names of the colonies in the show. _Yu Dao? That was those awful comics only..._

I hung my head in defeat. "Forgive me, General Iroh," I admitted. "You are, of course, correct. I do not hail from the Fire Nation colonies."

He looked at me seriously, and said, "Well. It is gratifying to hear the truth from you, Lady Lin-"

I smiled. "As you must suspect by now, that is not my true name, either."

"- or whatever other name you choose to call yourself by," the Dragon of the West said. He was not pretending to be doddering now. "Then who are you and where do you come from?"

By now, we were no longer walking, but standing next to the prow of the ship. I considered my options. There was always the Southern Water Tribe alibi to fall to-

I eyed the old man, and considered. Not only was the man the greatest cartoon character ever, he was also, within the confines of whatever dream or delusion I was experiencing, an old, very wise man with a terrible brother, a dead beloved son, a troublesome nephew, the sorrows of an entire nation to deal with and a destiny on his shoulders to fulfil. Taking away his time, the precious time that he could use to tutor Zuko, was plain _wrong_.

It had been a nice dream, but it was time to end the bullshit.

I jumped.

-xxxx-

* * *

The quote is Homer's _Odyssey_, Book V:192-261.

Note: Yeah, I think I owe you a little bit of explanation for this one. I have always wanted to write a story that boils down to "a visitor to a fictional world thinks that the story s/he has inserted into has actually come to a perfectly good end in the canon, and _really_ doesn't want to risk the possibility that his/her presence will deviate it; on the other hand, it's _really_ tempting to stay and watch the story unfold...". The time-traveller's dilemma, only applied to a story. :-)

That doesn't take away from the fact that it was basically a spur-of-the-moment fic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Act I**

I woke up in the darkness of a cell, lit, by now, by only a single candle. This time, the door outside was closed.

Over the next several days, a routine was established: at one point of the darkness of the (?_day_?), a man entered; brought me food and a new candle; emptied the chamberpot. Then, some indiscriminate time later, Iroh entered, and attempted to make conversation. Then, Iroh would leave, and I, sensation-deprived, would return to sleep.

I refused to talk. With the proper time, I deluded myself, I would wake up from the dream that turned into a nightmare.

It was on the fifth day that the routine was broken when Zuko entered.

* * *

The boy paced around the cell. "My uncle suspects that you are a spy," he said.

I did not reply; not until he approached me and shook me by the shoulders. "Well?" he demanded, angrily. "Are you?"

I considered the surest ways to send the boy off. "Did General Iroh send you here?" I asked, looking at him from my position on the floor.

"Don't change the topic!"

Hmm. "Does your uncle know at all that you are here?"

The scowl the boy sent me sufficed for an answer. "I think, Prince Zuko," I said, "that you should leave now, before your esteemed uncle finds out you were here."

Zuko shook his head. "I'm not leaving until I get my answer," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

With his persistence, I did not doubt that he would make good on his threat. The problem was, I really didn't want him near me. Not to speak of Iroh finding out about the chat. This might give the Dragon of the West _ideas_.

I frowned. "Where did you hear that I'm a spy, anyway? From the General?" I rather doubted that.

Zuko blushed. "No, Uncle didn't... It's just... From the crew," he admitted.

I shrugged. "Well, there you have it."

Zuko blinked. "Are you suggesting- No!" He shook his head. "Uncle tells me everything! He trusts me!"

The change into the defensive stance he made with his hands sent a small wave of fire in my direction; I felt it on my face, and my clothes, and behind the fire, Zuko's terrified, despairing eyes.

The boy ran out of the cell, and I facepalmed. My family had always commented on my lack of subtlety – my father had once famously quipped that I had "all the tact and grace of a road roller." I was exceptionally badly equipped to deal with a damaged soul.

I should have held my mouth closed. Stupid.

I considered; then, approached the door. Someone was listening. Someone always would be listening. They thought I didn't know, but I did; in the sensory-deprived cabin, tiny sounds and smells grew up to an enormous size, and I had heard footsteps shuffling outside of the door at all times of the day. The crew were still concerned that I would try to repeat my earlier trick, even though they removed absolutely any and all means to do so from the cabin.

I approached the door, then. "Please tell the General that, once he's done with the Prince, I am ready to answer all his questions at his pleasure."

* * *

-xxx-

* * *

**Act II**

Iroh was angry. "You have spoken to my nephew," he spoke at me almost from the threshold, with a frown.

_Please don't frown_... I shrugged. "What was I to do? He spoke to me first. How is he?"

The old man eyed me. "Asleep," he said, seating himself next to me on the bare floor. "Tea?"

"Yes, please," I replied.

The teapot was brought and the jasmine tea poured out; the news was a relief. "I- I'm sorry, General. I did not realise he was _that_ fragile."

Iroh was not yet appeased. "You are our prisoner, Lady Lin," he reminded me, not unkindly.

"Yes, General," I replied. "And, as I said, I will answer all your questions."

The Dragon of the West cradled the tea in his palm. "Do proceed then, Lady Lin," he said calmly.

I nodded acquiescence; I was, in a manner, beyond caring. "I am not a spy. I come from a different world. This here-" I moved my hand around – "It feels like a story I once heard, or a dream, to me."

I watched for any sign of a reaction. There was none.

"It..." I said, "It is your story, General, and the Crown Prince's. And the Fire Nation's, and the Avatar's. I'm not sure, but I think it is bound to begin soon. And it will end well. And I am not in it."

Still no reaction; it was still my obligation to speak.

I braced myself. "If everything is interconnected," I said, "if we're all living together in the same world; if the flutter of a buzzard wasp in the Si Wong Desert can cause a snowstorm across the icefields of the North Pole, does it not make sense that if I am here when the story begins, there is a chance that – that some ineffable contract between the life and the universe will be broken – that the story will not end well? It feels to me as if there is only one conclusion. I shouldn't be here when that happens."

I looked to Iroh, somewhat desperate to make myself understood. He was the spiritual one, the wise one; all that I had was a bit of chaos maths. Anyone who had ever seeded a model with minimally divergent conditions, only to have it arrive at completely contradictory results, soon learned to curse the name of Edward Lorenz and his particular species of butterfly.

Iroh considered. "Hmm," he said, touching his beard. "It is certainly an interesting question that you pose, Lady Lin. I can't say I have ever been in such a situation as you describe."

I waited.

"Although I admit, I now feel I understand better your earlier... desperate act."

I cringed.

Suddenly, Iroh smiled. "But it occurs to me that you may be looking at the matter from a wrong perspective, Lady Lin."

This sounded oddly dangerous. "How so, General?"

"If the fate of the world hangs in balance, and the hour of destiny is at hand, don't you think that larger forces are at play than just your will, or mine? Do you not think that the destiny of an entire world is sturdier, less volatile, than to fall down to a single alteration? Do you not trust yourself to make the right choices if a time for choice comes?"

I sighed. I did not like the way he said _choice_. "I think... the question is, are you going to wager the destiny of your entire world on this off-chance that all goes well, General?"

The old man eyed me calmly. "What sort of a destiny would it be if it required the blood of an innocent person?"

I jerked. "I'm not entirely sure it would be death, for me. More to the point, people will die either way, General. What if my – let's assume that, indeed, _death_ – prevents many?"

"How can you be so sure about that?" Iroh asked calmly, and wisely; and I really wished I had his trust and confidence, and that it would not look like foolishness to me. "How can you be sure that your influence will be negative?"

"So you will not do it?" I asked, approaching despair.

"No," he said coldly. "And neither will you."

I jerked. "Is that an order, General Iroh?"

"No, Lady Lin," he replied. "But this is. You will consider what kind of effect such an act as you are contemplating will have on my nephew, and on the crew of this ship who offered you their hospitality. And once you do, you will understand why you will refrain from it, and we will never speak of it again."

He was now both terrible and awesome. "You are now a guest on this vessel," he explained calmly. "You will not abuse the privilege of being here by disturbing its spiritual peace. Am I understood, Lady Lin?"

My head hurt. I wanted to cry, but I was not able to find the tears. I had never had.

* * *

-xxx-

* * *

**Act III**

Iroh left me alone, sitting on the floor, bracing myself.

The anxiety attack subsided slowly, and, removed from all emotion, I considered. It appeared I would have to make my best effort living.

That meant _adaptation_ – and that, in turn, presented multiple logistical problems. Fun as it might be to partake of a whole new world on screen, _living_ it was an entirely new thing altogether.

I considered, matter after matter. I was not a bender. I did not know the world's geography. I did not know the local customs. I did not know what was safe to eat, or drink. I could not write, or read, the local languages. I had been a data scientist and a programmer, and there were no computers or data in this world. The only Pythons they had here were – well, probably some snake-bird-hippopotamus hybrids. I could as well be a snake-oil peddler, or a fortuneteller.

I would have to reinvent myself completely if I were to survive.

Fascinating.

* * *

-xxx-

* * *

Note: Title callout! Whenever I encounter these "transported into a different reality" stories, and as soon as I stop questioning their ethics, my mind always moves to these practical issues. Just how do you adapt to living in an alternate reality? The potential for cultural misunderstandings must be _enormous_.

What do you think? How do you think you would have adapted? Where would you start?


End file.
